


Sugar Daddy

by brionypoisoned



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Anarchist!Peter Nureyev, Comedy, Hook-Up, M/M, Ok once again the original character is only an excuse for Peter Nureyev to be a messy thot, POV Original Character, Peter Nureyev Alias Generator (Penumbra Podcast), Peter Nureyev pining after Juno, Peter is sexually attracted to moral outrage, Pining, rebound Peter Nureyev, sad but not admitting it to himself Peter Nureyev
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23568670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brionypoisoned/pseuds/brionypoisoned
Summary: Nobody walks out on Peter Nureyev, except for, apparently, the only man he's actually confessed real feelings for in probably his entire life. But IT'S FINE! He's fine. FILE IT AWAY PETER. He's just gotta pull off a heist, hook up with the first cute bear he meets, and demonstrate how completely and utterly he is OVER Juno Steel.Set early on in Season 2.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev/Original Character(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 59





	Sugar Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I wrote a fic from a POV other than Juno or Peter and it was very fun, so I decided to try it again. Also, I love a messy, bitter, post breakup Peter Nureyev. 
> 
> If you enjoy please do comment! Thank you!!

Philanthropy week on Triton meant different things for different groups of people. If you were a celebrity or a millionaire, it meant you got invited to a tiresome number of events which were, to be perfectly honest, kind of a drag. If you were Adnan Mateu, a man who did not make enough money to live in the city where he taught and spent most of his day asking 5 year olds why things they had just handed him were wet, Philanthropy week meant you had to stuff yourself into a rented tuxedo and spend a twelve hour day begging a bunch of assholes to donate some money to your goddamn school. 

"Anemoi District, huh?" A blonde man in his forties wearing a silk dress shirt that cost as much as Adnan made in a month asked, reading the sign at his booth. "That's a rough area."

"The area isn't so much the problem—one of the best schools in the interplanetary system is just two blocks over from us." Adnan answered with a smile. "Not that I've ever seen the building. The fence around it goes up pretty high." 

"You know what I mean," The man said, looking impatient, "There's a lot of crime, there, right?" 

"We have triple the amount of police presence as our neighboring districts, which skews the numbers." Adnan replied behind a pasted smile. Inside his head he could hear his administrators yelling at him, "Don't be honest! Give him a sob story! Tug those heartstrings!" But his administrators had stepped out for a break, and he didn't like the assumptions this guy was making.

"I see." The man gave Adnan a look filled with pity and condescension. Adnan was a big guy, but Philanthropy week always made him feel so fucking small.

"My class has one of the best graduation rates in the district." Adnan said, switching tactics. "Their reading levels are competitive across the planet. Last year one of my students wrote a poem about his little sister that won a prize, he got to read it in front of the governor."

The man's eyes lit up.

"Oh, I think I saw that on the news! Wasn't the boy's father killed from gang violence? What a tragic story! Is he here?" He craned his neck to see around Adnan, to find whatever corner they'd stuck their little poet into, to be dragged out whenever it was necessary for him to perform.

"We didn't think this was the most healthy environment for a six-year-old." Adnan said. It wasn't entirely true, the vice principal had thought it would be a great idea, but Adnan had put his foot down. 

"Mm. The last booth had some students there. They were very cute." 

"They're not zoo animals." Adnan snapped. 

The man's demeanor shifted to one of shocked affront.

"Of COURSE that's not what I meant!" He said. He gave Adnan one last irritated look before turning and leaving. 

Adnan closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, a feeling of guilt twinging inside of him. He should just be fucking nice. Why would that guy give money to a school that was rude to him?

_This must be why everyone's so nice to rich people all the time, and they get to gawk at all the adorable impoverished five year olds begging for their lives to their heart's content and then go home to their mansions feeling great about themselves._ An unhelpful voice in his head nagged at him.

He scanned the crowd for anyone else passing by, who might be interested in donating, to hopefully atone for his previous interaction. A tall, sleek, dark-haired man, very tall, actually, even if he weren't wearing heels, made eye contact and gave Adnan a little smile, before clicking away into the crowd. He didn't stop to visit, though, so Adnan found himself once again, alone. There wasn't much chance his school was going to be the sexy cause to donate to this year. Which meant that their plans to buy some comms in bulk to give to the lower-income parents would just have to wait. 

~*~

After a full day of presentations, the time finally arrived for the "thank you!" dinner and drinks. This was the portion of the evening that tempted many of the upper crust to attend this event. After such hard work opening their wallets all day they all felt they deserved a good time.

Adnan was on his third drink and avoiding his colleagues, who were all still at their table. Some C-list celebrity he didn't recognize was on stage showing a holo-presentation of refugee re-housing efforts in the outer rim. They weren't doing a very convincing job of caring about it, continually cracking bad and insensitive jokes. The responding laughter from the crowd hit Adnan like a slap.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink but its an open bar, so I suppose it would only be a symbolic gesture." A tall man with black hair and sharp features spoke to him, with a smile. He seemed to have emerged from the shadows out of nothing. It was the same man from earlier, Adnan realized, the one who had smiled before disappearing.

"Heck, I'll take one anyway." Adnan said, surprising himself. The last time someone had tried to pick him up at a bar must have been, what... graduate school? It had been a minute. The man who approached him was just barely taller than he was and reedlike in frame. He wore an impeccably cut deep violet suit complimented by yellow velvet heels. The stranger moved with confidence and elegance, like he ought to be on a runway somewhere, and his dramatic eye makeup matched that vibe. This was not the sort of person who Adnan ran into in his usual social circle.

"What'll you have, love?" The man asked, voice a lilting baritone. 

"Hmm..." Adnan turned to the bartender, which was, off-puttingly, a robot with a cute little light up smiley face. "What drink would be the most expensive for you to make if this weren't a free bar?" He asked. 

"Unrecognized question." The robo-bartender (robartender?) replied.

"How does an Elderflower cocktail sound?" The dark haired man asked, tilting his head. 

"Didn't Elderflowers go extinct like, a while back?" Adnan asked.

"Yes, thus the expense." 

"Sounds good to me!" Adnan agreed.

"Elderflower cocktail, coming up." The robot bartender said, voice pre-recorded and jarring.

"Those robots always give me the creeps." Adnan's new friend said, giving a little shiver. "But I suppose it's considerate of them to automate it, so you don't have to worry about leaving a tip." 

"Right, God forbid they actually HIRE a person and PAY them." Adnan mumbled. His cocktail slid smoothly to a halt perfectly in front him, propelled by a robot arm further down the bar. It was a wonder of mechanical engineering. 

The elegant man gave him an odd look, and Adnan realized that he was probably showing too much of his hand. Fuck it. 

"Hey, look, thanks for the drink, and no judgement or anything, but if you're looking for a sugar daddy tonight." Adnan shrugged. "I ain't it." 

The man grinned again, like he was surprised to remember that he could. It was the most handsome he'd looked all evening. He leaned forward and in what could only be described as a come-hither voice, said,

"Well, of course I'd never say no to a sugar daddy, but sometimes all you need is a _daddy_ , you know?"

Adnan's mouth went dry and he could feel his neck turning red. Fuck. 

"What's uh... what's your name?" He managed to ask.

"Marek Pearl." The man took a graceful seat next to him, crossing his long legs. "I take it you aren't here as one of the donors?"

"Ah, no." Adnan laughed. "My name's Adnan Mateu, I'm a primary ed teacher." Adnan said. "I'm here to beg." 

"We'll see about that." Marek said, looking him up and down. Adnan sort of wheezed and took another long drink. This was ridiculous, this wasn't the kind of thing that happened in real life. "You aren't taken, are you? Married? Committed?" Marek asked.

"No sir. I've been uh... single a while now." Adnan answered, shifting in his seat. "What are you here for? You look like you're a donor..." He asked.

"No, I'm on the take as well, this evening." The man said, adjusting his tie. "If everything goes smoothly I should be able to get out of here in a few minutes." 

Marek turned his attention back to the crowds, sizing up each group of revelers like an old woman at a grocery store inspecting fruit. One clique, full of what appeared to be property traders in silk suits and gowns, seemed to catch his eye. "That should do." Marek said, standing up and turning around, leaning suddenly close over Adnan and smiling wickedly. "Mr. Mateu." He whispered. "Will you be very good for me?"

"I..." Adnan blushed deep red. "Yes?"

"Good. Will you wait here for at MOST ten minutes? I'll come back and collect you. I would be DEVASTATED if you left with anyone else." 

"I... I can wait." Adnan said.

"Excellent." The slim man leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Remember, daddy! Be good!" And with a click of high heels Marek Pearl turned and once again disappeared into the crowds. 

Adnan glanced around, sipping his drink too quickly and spilling some of it into his beard. He turned around again to face the robot.

"You uh... you saw that right? That guy's really coming on strong, huh? To me! Of all people!"

"Torres brand grain-alcohol is just the right thing to make your night special!" The robot recited one of its pre-recorded ads.

"Good to know." Adnan sighed, glancing around again. He squinted for Marek in the crowd, and eventually caught sight of him. Marek was walking strangely, he appeared to stumble and bump into at least three separate men and women just in the few minutes Adnan was able to keep an eye on him. No-one seemed to mind, everyone was in various stages of drunkenness at that point and Marek seemed to play off of the crowds of people wonderfully. He smiled and laughed sweetly with all of them, and in a few seconds everyone was laughing and slapping his back like they were old friends. Adnan lost track of Marek in the crowd shortly after.

Almost exactly ten minutes later the click of heels on tile announced Marek's return. He stopped in front of Adnan with a hand extended. 

"You ready?" 

"I..." Adnan blushed. A thought had occurred to him in Marek's absence. "Just so we're on the same page... are you gonna... charge me for this?" 

Marek let out a little laugh at that and simply reached out to hook his arm through Adnan's, who awkwardly climbed to his feet.

"If you had a trust fund, maybe. As it is I am simply in the mood for a pleasant evening. I got the impression you were as well?" 

"I uh... yeah. It sounds nice." Adnan didn't encounter many people who he had to look UP to speak to, and he found that he enjoyed it. Marek grinned, and the two of them snuck out of the fundraiser and into a cab in minutes.

~*~

They spent the night in Adnan's apartment. He was a little embarrassed about the unwashed dishes and the piles of glitter and craft materials lying around, but Marek didn't seem to care. The elegant man maneuvered him into bed with grace and climbed on top of him eagerly, kissing him with a deep, almost manic intensity. Marek removed Adnan's horrible tuxedo piece by piece, nipping at his skin with sharp teeth. He was incredible.

~*~

When he woke up the next morning Adnan could immediately sense the presence of the man in bed with him. A hot, tense energy. He rolled over and met Marek's eyes, which were fixed on him with a sort of glassy blankness. Like Marek was looking at Adnan but seeing someone else.

"Good morning." Adnan muttered, and Marek snapped out of it, although there was a kind of drawn, tiredness to his expression. 

"Morning, Mateu." Marek purred, arching his back as he stretched. "Good to see you." 

"Where else would I be?" Adnan said with a laugh. He just meant that they were in HIS apartment, but Marek's stunned expression at the question made Adnan regret his choice of words. 

Even in the light of day, with smudged makeup, Marek looked incredible. Adnan couldn't believe he'd pulled this off. "You hungry?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Always." Marek answered, closing his eyes and snuggling into the mattress. 

"I'll make us something. You like waffles?" 

Adnan hadn't busted out the waffle maker since his sister had last visited him with the kids. He made a mean waffle, though; he reserved them for special occasions.

"I... have never had a waffle in my life." Marek answered, blinking. "It sounds like some kind of sound-effect." 

"Huh! You're in for a treat, then!" Adnan grinned, and gave Marek a quick kiss before rolling out of bed. 

He hummed a little bit as he made his way into the kitchen and wrestled the waffle maker out from the depths of his cupboards. He could hear his guest moving between the bedroom and the bathroom and he couldn't help but smile to himself. It felt nice to have somebody else in his apartment with him.

He turned on the news just to have something on in the background while he whipped up the waffle batter. Half-listening as he pulled out the eggs from his icebox (he, blessedly, had just enough), he heard the shrill-voiced newscaster announce something about a political assassination attempt in Hyperion city. He'd done some student teaching there, so when he heard the words "Old Town" he glanced up and turned up the volume.

There was that Ramses O'Flaherty guy, shouting something at the camera. Adnan sort of resented that Martian politics was so messy and Hyperion City so corrupt that their weird little political in-fights made it all the way out here. He was about to mute the screen, but Marek gasped audibly behind him.

"No FUCKING way." Marek growled from the doorway, glasses on, hair wet, absolutely swimming in one of Adnan's bathrobes. "Pause the stream." 

"What?"

"NO, go back, the camera moved." Marek approached the screen with an insane intensity, eyes flashing, waving his hands to indicate that he wanted Adnan to rewind. He didn't seem to want the video of Ramses himself, something about one of the crowd shots seemed to have sent Marek into a minor conniption.

"Uh.." Adnan rewound the news a bit until Marek shouted for him to stop.

"THERE you are, you..." Marek hissed at the screen, running his fingers through his own hair and shifting on his feet. "TODAY!? You fucker!? When I finally... how DARE you!"

"You, um... recognize somebody?" Adnan asked, whisking the waffle batter awkwardly. 

"Nice eye, there." Marek muttered, not to him, squinting at the blurred image of a man in the corner of the screen. "Where'd you get the money? I wonder?" 

Adnan decided to just go about his business and let whatever the fuck was going on between his date and the news broadcast just play out. He pressed the preheat button on the waffle maker, trying not to second-guess allowing this man into his home.

"Yeah uh... I was just listening to that. Somebody was actually inside the podium and was gonna kill O'Flaherty, but one of O'Flaherty's snipers took them out."

"Was it a good shot?" Marek asked, snapping his head in Adnan's direction for the first time since he set foot in the kitchen. 

"I mean... I guess? It must have been?" 

Marek actually looked relieved at that for a second, but only briefly. An expression of bitter irritation spoiled his features.

"I'm so sorry, I'm being unspeakably rude." Marek fumbled to pick up the controller but didn't manage to turn the screen off, apparently ensnared once again by the motionless, blurred image of the man in the corner. 

"He's cute." Adnan said. "I guess you know him?" 

"He's a sloppy, messy, self-destructive idiot with a death wish." Marek grumbled, eyes still fixed on the blurry image.

"Still cute, though." Adnan said, and Marek let out a little growl. He didn't say anything in disagreement, though.

The waffle iron beeped. Adnan poured a little batter in. 

"My apologies, again." Marek said, and finally managed to snap the comms screen off. He turned back around to Adnan with a new, nervous energy. "He's irrelevant, I'm so sorry."

"No worries." A lot about the previous evening was beginning to become clear as the conversation continued. He didn't really mind. He'd been a rebound before. Heck, he'd rebounded with worse people than this. The waffle maker dinged, so he plucked out the first waffle and immediately threw it into the bin.

"What?" Marek asked. "What was that for?"

"You always throw out the first one." Adnan said with a smile, meeting Marek's eyes with kindness. He poured more batter in. Marek fidgeted with his robe, glancing at the empty comms screen and the time. 

"I... I think I might have to go..." Marek said, voice soft. "I'm so sorry." 

"Stay for a waffle." Adnan said. 

"May I... I had a very nice evening, Adnan, but I'm afraid I do have to leave. May I take a waffle... to go?"

Adnan looked into the man in his kitchen's eyes again, and he could see a deep sadness there, despite Marek's efforts to stand confidently. 

"Of course." Adnan sighed. "You get ready, I'll fix you a plate." 

Marek disappeared back into the bedroom and emerged a few minutes later in a dressed down version of his clothes from the night before. Adnan had taken a few minutes to figure out the best way to wrap up some waffles for someone who had never had one before and ended up putting butter and powdered sugar on them before wrapping two of them in wax paper.

"The next time you have these you have to put syrup on them." He said to Marek, handing him the little envelope of food.

Marek leaned in and gave him a soft, affectionate kiss. Adnan felt himself blush, again. 

Marek didn't say goodbye, he just swept out of the door quietly before Adnan could even figure out which direction he had gone. 

Suddenly alone in his apartment, having already whipped up quite a bit of batter, Adnan decided to make himself a nice BIG stack of waffles. He flipped the news back on once again for distraction.

"At a charity gala event last night, a few Tritonites lost more than they had bargained for..." A newscaster's voice cut through. Adnan glanced up, and recognized a few people from the party last night onscreen. The line of fashionable, disgustingly wealthy people were all frantic over losing their wallets, jewelry, designer bags, and so on.

"Huh." Adnan said. Marek's comment last night about being "on the take..." came back to him with sudden clarity. He glanced back to his bedroom where the man had spent quite some time unattended. Adnan bit his cheek, thoughtfully, before standing up to investigate.

Everything seemed to be where he had left it, apart from a note on the bedside table. 

"Hello daddy. Check your school's donation numbers." it read, with a little lipstick kiss as a signature. Adnan fumbled for his comms, where he had access to that information. A few clicks later and he was looking at a VERY large number of creds donated from "anonymous." 

"Holy crap." Adnan sat down on the bed. He kept thinking of the way Marek had stumbled into all those people the night before, many of whom seemed to be the same people appearing on the news today. He looked back at the number on the screen. The parents in his district would be able to support their children's education SO much better if they had access to reliable comms.

He put the note in his pocket and slowly made his way back into the kitchen, where his waffles, slightly cooled now, sat waiting for him. He switched the channel from the news to a nature show, and took a large bite. It had been a nice evening after all, all things considered.


End file.
